Sock Goblin
by luluhrh
Summary: Dan's socks are disappearing, and he doesn't know who to blame...and Phil is the sock goblin. First Phanfic. Pretty tame. I ship Phan, but it can be read as platonic. Or pre-slash. Whatever. Rated K just in case.


***saucy salute* Hello Internet!/*cheery wave* Hi guys!**

 **Yes! My first Phanfic!**

 **I have so many ideas for these two. I have a tiny little notebook and 25 pages of it are filled with Phan ideas, and there are others on the way, too. (wow I am trash but we are all trash so it's cool)**

 **Disclaimer:** **I DO NOT OWN THEM DAN AND PHIL ARE THEIR OWN PEOPLE I DO NOT OWN THEM I would like to meet them BUT I DO NOT OWN THEM OKAY NOT MINE**

 **WARNING: I do not speak British. Stupid American here, all my British-isms are learned from watching British YouTubers/** ** _Doctor Who_** **/** ** _Sherlock_** **/reading fanfiction made by British people. So there! Don't hurt me for misusing your terms. Or inserting American words that you don't understand. I have never even been to Britain. I have only been to two countries in Europe, and they are Germany and Holland, which, as far as I know, are not in Britain.**

 **ANOTHER WARNING: this is pretty much just crack because I thought this would be interesting so kind of fluffy crack**

 **THIRD WARNING: okay I ship Phan but I don't quite feel comfortable writing about these dorks in a relationship yet so this will probably be platonic Phan, or at least pre-slash Phan. No kisses or romantic cuddles or sexy-times here! Just socks. Stolen socks.**

 **I has a one word prompt that this is based on!**

 **Prompt: Kleptomaniac**

 **Phil isn't stealing everything in this, though... Just Dan's socks XD because it's cute XD let's go XD**

* * *

They had been friends for about two years when Phil suggested that they move in together. Dan hadn't put up much of a fuss. They were best friends who shared everything with one another anyway. Surely living together wouldn't be too different.

* * *

Mostly, they had no problems living together. They had their own space when they needed to retreat after an argument or something, or when it was time to "sleep" (read: browse the web/have crises of an existential nature), but most of their waking moments were spent together.

Yes, Phil ate Dan's cereal at midnight "secretly" and had a veritable army of houseplants. Sure, Dan paced around at five in the morning and could more often than not be found in either browsing position or face down on the floor. These were somewhat irritating, but overall harmless quirks that the pair got used to remarkably quickly and even managed to joke about.

But there was one issue that had recently cropped up and had continued to be unsolved: Dan's socks were disappearing.

Dan swore up and down that he put his socks in the hamper and always folded them and put them away (he wasn't Phil), but the fact remained that Dan was running out of socks.

This wasn't too much of an issue, seeing as they rarely left their flat and Dan didn't really wear socks inside, but it bugged him nonetheless. He joked about the sock goblin... mostly. After all, if the sock goblin wasn't real, where were his socks going?

Whenever Dan hypothesized about the whereabouts of said socks, Phil said nothing besides, "I'm sure they'll turn up eventually." And occasionally, a few pairs of socks would turn up, and Dan would be annoyed at finding them under his bed, behind the dresser, etc. The mystery of how the hell they got to said places remained exactly that.

* * *

Phil was not a kleptomaniac, and he didn't have a _problem_.

...Well, okay, so maybe it was turning into a a teensy-weensy itty-bitty little bit of a problem. Perhaps "habit" was a better word for it...

Anyway, point was that Phil could not stop taking Dan's socks.

It was stupid and impulsive and a terrible idea, but whenever Phil knew that Dan was out of the way, he couldn't help but sneak into his room and take a pair or two of his socks. Sometimes only one sock out of the pair, which was really bad, but he couldn't help it! Really.

He didn't even do anything with them, like pin them on a board or use them to decorate a secret Dan Howell shrine (because he didn't have a secret Dan Howell shrine, honest). He just stuck them in his own sock drawer, beneath all his mismatched pairs, and when Dan started to complain, he dropped them in random places so that Dan wouldn't know he'd taken them and the mystery of the sock goblin would thicken.

 _It's not like it's hurting anyone,_ Phil reasoned as he examined the contents of Dan's sock drawer. He picked up a black-and-white checked pair, shrugged, and closed the drawer. _Well, besides Dan's brain. But he's not too worried about it. And it's not_ that _creepy..._

Phil's assurances sounded a bit weak, even to his own ears. But what was he supposed to do? Stop? He couldn't, he'd tried. Explain to Dan and ask for help? No, Dan would freak out (because it did seem really weird, if Phil was being honest with himself) and then Phil would lose his best friend and whatever else happened to him, Phil knew that losing Dan was the one thing he wouldn't be able to deal with. No, he would have to stop it himself.

But _how_?

* * *

 _Just tell him,_ Phil thought urgently, staring at where Dan sat in his browsing position on the couch. _Just say it out loud._

"Hey Dan?"

Dan glanced up. "Yeah, Phil?"

 _I can't do it._

"Want some coffee?"

Blank stare. "Phil, it's six in the evening."

"So?"

An amused sigh, a shake of the head. "No thanks, you weirdo. Make some for yourself if you have to."

"Nah, actually, want to watch some _Buffy_?"

A chuckle. "No surprise there." Small pause. Then: "Okay, sure."

 _Not now. Not yet. Soon, though._

* * *

Phil's not the best liar, especially when it comes to lying to himself. _Soon_ was stretched into a month, and then two. Four more pairs of Dan's socks were stolen by dimension-hopping creatures of myth, and Phil _really_ needed to stop before he didn't have enough room in his drawer for his own socks.

It wasn't like he needed Dan's socks, or wanted them. Plain black socks were not his style in any way whatsoever. He just... There was literally no explanation. He just took Dan's socks.

It was getting past out of hand. This was worse than bad.

Time for drastic measures.

* * *

"Holy shit!" Dan yelped, staring at the pile of socks in front of his door. "Where the fuck did these come from?"

Phil shrugged, staring at the pile with what he hoped was an appropriate mix of shock, surprise, confusion, and amusement. "Maybe the sock goblin decided to give them back?" he offered uncertainly, praying to anyone who might be watching over him that he sounded more like he didn't know what could have done it and less like he was searching for an excuse to hide a guilty conscience.

"We both know that's complete bullshit," Dan admonished him, but he looked and sounded uncertain. His gaze was still fixed on the mound of socks. He didn't appear to have noticed Phil's tone of voice.

Phil didn't let out his sigh of relief until Dan had gathered the mound of socks and gone back into his room.

Whatever happened, Phil was not going to be doing that again.

* * *

 **And that's the end, because I had no idea where the hell I was going with this one.**

 **RFF! My first Phanfic, so gimme feedback! I know it's kinda shitty, but give me constructive criticism! I could use it.**

 **The word of the day is LUCID! I knew that one definition of this was clear-minded or having full use of one faculties, but apparently it also means full of light or luminous. *the more you know***

 **And that's it, I guess.**

 **Lulu out!**


End file.
